


Do

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 00:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10842672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Thranduil’s exceptionally rude to their guest.





	Do

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings or The Silmarillion any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

“Ada, I go on hunts all the time—”

“With your own soldiers,” Thranduil seethes, storming ahead of him through their sprawling halls. Legolas has to hurry to keep up; even with his legs nearly as long as his father’s, Thranduil’s in one of _those_ moods. He barks over his shoulder, “Stay away from him, Legolas.”

“He is a great warrior!” Legolas insists. “And renowned for—”

“He is old, haggard, and entirely unworthy of you, and that is all I will hear of it!”

They turn a sharp corner where Thranduil nearly mows Tauriel down. She smartly steps aside and continues on her way, while Legolas is robbed of time to apologize on his father’s behalf. He’s busy making sure that Thranduil doesn’t reach the guest quarters alone. At the bottom of the next staircase, Legolas tries to explain, “I am only asking to join him on a hunt...” 

But Thranduil doesn’t acknowledge him, just marches right across the way and jerks open the second door without so much as a knock. Thranduil surges inside, Legolas hot on his heels, and Maedhros straightens from his place beside the bed, caught in the middle of clasping his belt. Legolas has the embarrassing urge to either cover his face or melt through the floor, but he feels the need to maintain a sympathetic look over Thranduil’s broad shoulder. The heir of the great Fëanor deserves some recognition, a bow and at _least_ proper greeting, but instead, Thranduil hisses, “You will _not_ bed my son.”

Legolas instantly cries, “Ada!” Shock and embarrassment overwhelm him, though Maedhros merely blinks at the declaration.

Maedhros, a strong, noble creature even taller than Thranduil, looks little more than Legolas’ age, though the tanned skin at his throat and cheek is marred with many scars. One ear is chipped, the other hidden under a wavy, wild crop of copper hair. He wears only a simple tunic and trousers, and the belt he finishes affixing has no weapon on it. His visage is simple, but his carriage is that of a great king, and it’s telling in the way he meets Thranduil head on; Legolas has seen many cower or bolt before his father’s chilling gaze. 

Wearing only a light frown, Maedhros politely replies, “I was not trying to.”

Thranduil scoffs, only to press, “Is he not beautiful?”

“Ada—!”

Thranduil snaps, “Hush,” over his shoulder and returns to Maedhros, “Would you not ravish him in the woods if you had the chance?” Thrusting out an arm as though brandishing a sword, he adds, “I forbid it!”

That pushes the whole thing over the edge, and Legolas loudly counters, “I will bed whomever I wish!”

Thranduil looks around, appearing both scandalized and furious, but Legolas only glares back; he learned his stubbornness from his father. Before them, Maedhros gently chides, “You must respect your father, Legolas.”

Legolas spares Maedhros a betrayed look, but Thranduil snorts, “At least we can agree on something.” Then he affixes Maedhros with a grueling stare, boring into him, as though daring Maedhros to say any more. Maedhros suffers it with admirable ease, though it lasts long enough for Legolas to squirm uncomfortably.

Finally, Thranduil seems to deduce what he wants. He turns on the spot, telling Legolas, “I suggest you find someone closer to your own age, ion nín. ...And one with less blood on their hands.” Before Legolas can retort, Thranduil sweeps past him, back out into the hall, and his normally silent footfalls become an angry clamour in the distance. Legolas doesn’t even know where to start.

He’s vaguely horrified, even though Maedhros looks more mystified than offended. Legolas isn’t sure he can explain. A wild, impossible thought flitters through his mind: _Thranduil_ is closer to Maedhros’ age. But Legolas immediately dismisses it; surely his father would have a less destructive way of discouraging his son’s competition.

But just in case it is possible, or that Maedhros might heed the advice himself, Legolas feels the need to recapture his guest’s attention. With his father no longer in his way, he takes a few steps towards Maedhros, then a determined few more, until he’s standing right before the hero of legends and has to tilt his chin up to make their eyes connect. Despite all the wounds, Maedhros is distinctly _handsome_ , and Legolas is all too eager to discover just how many of the stories are true. Maedhros lifts one red brow at him, frown twisting into a subtle smile.

Legolas asks quietly, “ _Would_ you be interested in ravishing me in the woods?” And Maedhros’ smile grows.


End file.
